28 Memories
by McNutty2002
Summary: A sequel to my Arthur FanFiction. A sort of mix of Greg Wiseman plot hijinks where I expand the world and the cast of characters in the story. The formats aren't the traditional type of telling stories. Think of a mix of Pynchon, Delilo, Gaddis, Gass, Flannery O' Connor, Faulkner, Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Gogol, Hobbes, Wittgenstein, and Zadie Smith.
1. Chapter 1

A crack of lightning followed by the booming thunder shook the windows of Elwood City Hospital. Rain with its pitter-patter pummeled the building from the cornerstone to the foundation; water couldn't help but to collect and seep into the ceilings, slowly collecting into one area of the roof and dropping down onto the linoleum floor. Much of the custodial staff was busy upstairs, weathering the storm as they attempted to find a solution to the water leakage; buying themselves much needed time by laying out a polyester tarp over the tiles on the roof.

Hospital staff was forced to make due with buckets. When the amount of buckets needed couldn't suffice for the amount of drops of rain falling from the ceiling, bed pans were used. With the bedpans occupied, many patients found themselves forced to maneuver from their beds towards the bathrooms in their respective rooms. Eventually with the amount of people flushing their toilets, combined with the water already being used in cleaning various surgical utensils and sanitizing doctors hands caused a rupture in the water main, forcing many of the staff to help direct patients and visitors towards the Arby's located across the street. A line formed from the entrance of the hospital all the way to the gender-neutral bathrooms located at the back of the respective Arby's. With the amount of influx of patients needed to relieve themselves, either number 1 or 2, a system was quickly put in place for the patients needing to urinate to do so around the rim of the hospital on and in front of the ER entrance, allowing the trails and pools of urine to run down the hill, essentially creating a yellow river that flowed through the grass, rose garden, and finally into the storm drain. The steam and smell that arose from this river of piss wafted into the air, leaving a putrid trail of piss back towards the entrance of the ER.

This was the first thing that Marina noticed as she made her way up the hill, her walking cane stabbing several calf's as she maneuvered around what she thought were people wearing shorts. A common misconception about people with disabilities like deafness or blindness are that their other senses, as a way of coping without the use of all six sensory inputs, the brain heightens the ability of the others, working at a higher level due to excess energy not being used for the disabled one (sic). What was true that being blind only allowed Marina from being distracted from trying to see and hear. What most people don't know about the human brain is that they try to process both sight and sound separately; sight being the visual aid that our brain identifies as a priority rather than sound, which is secondary. In many conversations, there is often miscommunication or the idea that there wasn't a full picture of what was going on, some argue that most of the time, depending on the person, we spend 70% of the time (sic) focused on a particular spot or point on a person's face that distracts us from the conversation that we are having with the person, often leading in confusion and the phrase, 'Come again?'

Be it with men talking to women, with particular aspects of their physical body distracts them from the fact that beyond the physical make-up that they are talking to a living breathing person. It doesn't help that in fact our sensory inputs are overloaded solely by the sights and also hindered by the smells that make up our surroundings, often an example to extrapolate further on the point in layman terms is of a bat trapped in a wind chime factory.

Marina winced at every sniffle of her nose, even though she couldn't see what was occurring in front of her, she could very well smell it and in small aspects, taste it. Venturing into the hospital, she was met with further attacks on her other senses; sounds and smells that occupied the space inside combined into a mustard gas of nausea. Marina held her breath and tapped away on the floor, hurrying her step and finding the front desk; she placed her free hand on the counter, clasping onto it like a cliff's edge.

'Excuse me?', she asked through measured gasps of air. 'I wanted to know where the room of a George Lundgren was located at.'

Juggling two phones at once the Nurse turned her attention up to Marina, "Are you a member of his immediately family?"

Marina felt the inquisitiveness from the tone of the Nurse's voice; if she knew what eyes had looked like, Marina would imagine that they would be looking at her crossed and bemused. 'Yes.'

The Nurse turned towards the large personal Computer located adjacent to her; Marina listened to every keystroke, from the J's; the press of the shift button and the slight tap of the Enter key with the pinky finger. 'Just got out of surgery an hour ago, he's in ICU in room 234 B. Do you need an escort?'

Marina's lips reached end to end. 'That would be nice, thank you.'

Marina enjoyed being carted on a wheelchair; she was reminded of her times of riding a rollercoaster. There were times in her life that the most fun and leisure she found was riding the escalator's up and down; without a destination in mind Marina rode around machines that controlled the flow of travel from point A to B. It left a feeling of wistlessness and detachment from the world around her, no longer was she bound by any earth-mass; Marina was living in darkness constantly, the world she knew was one of where her feet and walking stick shaped for her, a series of sensations that her mind tried to form abstract pictures in her head. When Marina would ride any vehicle, all those sensations left her; with the wind whipping her hair or the feeling of her body floating on an escalator, for maybe minutes at a time did she feel above it all.

Finally arriving at the room in question, the orderly helped Marina off her chariot and back onto the hard floor. She heard him walk away with the squeaky wheels of the wheelchair scurry off back into the other wards of the hospital. Opening the door, the first sound that leapt at her was the iambic beat of the EKG Monitor, then the breathing apparatus, and then the dialysis machine.

'I'm sorry, I didn't know Mr. Lundgren was expecting visitor's at the moment.' A nurse said as she finished washing George's arms with a sponge.

'Is he stable?' Marina inched closer and closer.

'The surgeon's have done all they can, but they don't expect him to wake up anytime soon. We'll monitor him for a few days here and make sure his condition stabilizes.'

'Oh…do you think I could have some time alone with him.' Marina sat down next to George, her hands rested on her lap as she looks in no direction particular.

'Yes, that's fine. If you need anything, there's a call button right next to the bed.'

Marina smiled as the nurse left the room, waiting on the sound of the closing door Marina sat in place until she heard a click. Alone and uninterrupted she reached and felt George with her hands, investigating and interrogating the state of his body with her tips, her palms, and her wrists resting on IV tubing. The breathing apparatus with it's long cylindrical tube extended out like an elephant's trunk or what Marina imagined what an elephant's trunk might be like from her readings. She took his right hand and splayed his fingers on her upturned palm; Marina inched closer to George's ear and whispered. 'George. George. It's Marina. Are you still there?'

Whispering the same words over and over, every intonation and punctional mark was reiterated with the same warmth that she had been sending George's inert body. No response was reiterated back, but then Marina felt a slight tremor; George shook and then slipped back into his default inert mode. Movement, Marina felt the small etchings of his fingernails dance on her palm.

'Good. Yes. I can hear you loud and clear.' Marina smiled, not the upturned gesture that she practiced in front of Prunella for twenty times a day to produce a smile that the world could accept, but the kind of smile that was truer to herself. This was a smile that was crooked and cocked to one side of her face, gritting her teeth like a friendly dog.

George's finger dance stop and Marina nods her head. She reaches over to the call button and a ring summons the nurse back into the room.

'Nurse, I'd like to make a phone call.'


	2. Chapter 2

∆nother Ride ∆round the Di∆mond

Molly let the record spin, even after the last song ended and all she heard was a low hum, she recalled the last few seconds of the last song. She got up and positioned the needle back onto the last song playing it again. The doorbell rang and her mother called out for her to answer it, but she turned up the volume and sank into the beanbag. She wanted to remember that feeling when Arthur left her after he confessed his feelings, she wanted to play that over and over again until that joy became numb. Molly thought hard about the scene, focusing on details to keep it fresh: Arthur's face as he brought it closer to hers, his hot breath on her face, it smelled sour, but she didn't mind. His nose, bulbous and thin hairs sprouting on it's surface, she felt like plucking them.

The song was nearing the end, Molly had listened to it so many times that she knew at which chorus line she knew when she'd have to reset the record again.

BANG!

It was faint, but it was small enough for Molly to notice, she took off her headphones and called out upstairs, "Mom?"

Silence. Molly called for her again, "Mom? Did you say something?" Now she was getting concerned, her heartbeat rose steadily. Molly got up and rushed over to the staircase, but she stopped in her tracks when she saw a figure standing at the top. They stood there in silhouette staring down at Molly. "Who are you?!" She could only make out it's antlers.

The figure stepped down into the light and this was the last person that Molly was expecting to see. George Lundgren. What was more surprising was the gun he had pointed right at her. "Just stay right there."

Molly forgot herself for a second, the sight of the gun was to put it lightly, unnerving. It was like she was both in and outside of her body, watching herself in this position. George came down the stairs and motioned her back into the basement.

"Just sit right back down onto the bag." She felt heavier when she dipped back onto the bag, every action, every second stretched out to infinitum. George lifted the needle off the record player and stared at the vinyl. "Is this your favorite band?", the gun was still trained on her when he asked. Molly nodded, but her head couldn't stop bobbing up and down.

"I've been meaning to get into some new bands, but I like listening to the stuff I already like, if that makes sense? Whenever I put on some music, it's the same song most of the time on repeat, I just like the feeling I get when I listen to a certain song and I want to repeat it several times. I don't know if you get that feeling?", George asks her as he flips through her catalogue of LP's.

"Woah. What's this?", George smiles as he pulls out an LP. It's covered in black satin and it shines in the light. "Dark Bunny the Movie Soundtrack. Wow. I hope this is not yours, because this is something that a 'Tough Customer' would have in their collection."

George steps back to the record player and sets the needle back down onto Molly's record. "May I?" George motions towards the headphones. She can't say no really and he takes a seat across from her, taking in the music. He's bobbing his head with the rhythm and smiles, "I'm starting to get why you like this band, very emotional. Music to unwind to."

"Did you kill my mom?", Molly asked. It's the question she was terrified to ask, but George isn't paying any attention to her, he's lost in the music.

"I really like this, this moment. I like doing this with you, it's nice. We should do it more often.", George said. He smiles at her, it's unsettling, but Molly returns it with a smile of her own as she flip the volume up to max.

George shoves the headphones off and covers his ears; Molly makes a mad dash for the stairs. She's sprinting up the staircase, not paying attention to if George is right behind her. Molly's almost out when she's kicked back down the stairs by another figure. She tumbles down, slamming into the drywall leaving a big dent. The figures comes down and we can see their large stature. They've got a gold mask on, the only thing visible is the two dark eyes fixed on Molly. George collects himself and looks over to the Gold Mask.

"You didn't need to do that. I had a handle on the situation." George said. Gold mask who turns their attention to the turntable and then back to George. "Don't just stand there and eyeball me, bind and blindfold her while she's still conscious."

Gold Mask grabs a rope from their pocket and ties Molly's arms behind her back. Losing consciousness and fast, Molly stares up to see George come right up to her face. "Now you better be ready for what comes next, cause it's going to be a lot of fun."

With the blindfold over her eyes, the only thing Molly could hear were the last few notes of the song as she was carried away.


End file.
